Her legs were elevated in her wheelchair, parallel to the brown tile and nested in dust-colored pillows, then she tipped forward toward the floor. Everything had come apart, mingling together on the dirty tiled floor: legs, dirty pillows, female items spilled from a purse, one gray slipper that slid under a booth bench.
I opened my cell phone to check the time then scrolled down, perusing my recent calls, then walked away. Disabled people have strong arms and feel good when they do for themselves.
Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality